


Major TARDIS

by redsurge220



Series: Space Oddities [1]
Category: David Bowie (Musician), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 22:36:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5945856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redsurge220/pseuds/redsurge220
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Ground Control lost contact, Major Tom drifted off into space, presumably to his death. Enter the Doctor and Martha Jones, once again happening by at just the right time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Major TARDIS

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a picture I saw somewhere of David Bowie in front of the TARDIS. My first attempt at any sort of fanwork, because I don't think I'm good at capturing character voice. Written over a year ago, unbeta-ed, posting before I change my mind. (Should I bother continuing this?)

_“Can you hear me, Major Tom?”_

The call faded in open space. The metal cylinder’s door was open, its pilot drifting away with the broken tether still attached. He knew what his fate would be, but his circumstances didn’t consciously occur to him. Instead, the spacewalker looked, fascinated at the alien view of his own home.

 _Planet Earth is blue, and there’s_ nothing I can do.

Then the realization set in. Soon his air would be gone, and the famous astronaut would still be drifting in space, lost forever. Still, the thought caused no panic. He just watched the watery planet, one thought cycling through his mind.

 _Planet Earth is blue…_ _And so is_ that!  _Now I_ must _be hallucinating—what would a London police box be doing out in space?_ Grateful that his mind had provided a distraction, the Major looked closer. Two people stood in the door, a thin man in a pinstriped suit and sneakers chatted happily with a darker-skinned woman wearing jeans and a leather jacket. The man seemed to see him and, turning, dashed inside. _There’s no room to run into one of those!_ The box began to come closer, and the astronaut smiled at the pretty woman who pulled him through the door.

*              *              *

“Doctor,” called Martha, “I’ve got him!” She immediately began to rush for her stethoscope, resting on the console, then thought better of it and began to remove her new patient’s helmet. Then she started on the suit, but she couldn’t undo the fastenings. Its unconscious wearer was entirely uncooperative.

“I can’t get his suit off!” Immediately the Doctor was at her side, making quick work of the top part with his sonic screwdriver. Martha went to work, checking the man’s vital signs.

“He seems all right, should wake up soon. I think he had only just run out of oxygen in that suit, like the hospital the day I met you. Remember?”

“The Judoon platoon on the moon, of course! I never forget anything. Well, maybe on occasion, but nothing important. Oh look, now he’s coming around!”

The thin man opened his eyes and slowly got to his feet. They were curiously mismatched; the left's pupil was large enough to make it look brown. Confusion quickly entered them.

“What in the… I’m dead, right? ‘Cause I can’t still be dreaming.”

“Oh, you’ve never been dreaming. I can see why you’d think that, me being an alien, flying through space in a  blue box that’s—”

“Bigger on the inside, definitely. But I’ve got to be dreaming, or hallucinating, if I’m not dead already. That tin can got away from me! There’s no way I could have survived.” He walked over to the pilot’s chair and sank down into it, stunned by the situation and the Doctor’s matter-of-fact attitude. Realizing that they had gotten practically nowhere with the newcomer, Martha decided to explain.

“Sir,” she said gently, “you’re not dead, or dreaming. The Doctor’s not lying; he _is_ an alien, and this is his ship, the TARDIS.” Its owner opened his mouth, but his companion motioned for him to be quiet. “You passed out from lack of oxygen. Everything will be fine, though. Same thing happened to me when I first met him; some alien police put my hospital on the moon.” She gave a little laugh at the astronaut’s skeptical look. “Sorry, I know it’s a bit much at first. I’m Martha Jones, by the way, she said, extending a hand to him.

He took it and introduced himself. “I’m known as Major Tom. Pretty famous down there, they all know me. It’s obvious that I’m an astronaut, you can see that.” He gestured to his pants.

“Sorry, can’t say I know you. See, we’re only visiting in 1969. The ship—”

“—is called the TARDIS,” said the Doctor, strolling around its console. “T. A. R. D. I. S., stands for Time And Relative Dimension In Space. Travels anywhere in space or time, anywhere you want to go. Time Lord, that’s me. Did I mention the alien thing yet?”

“Doctor! Please.”

“I’d say you’re completely mad, except we _are_ in space. Please tell me _you’re_ human at least, Miss Jones.”

Martha gave a small smile at the spacewalker’s suggestive expression. “ _No_ , sorry. But yes, I’m fully, one hundred percent human.”

Thankfully for her, he understood. “Oh. Well thanks for saving my life and all, but can you put me back home, on Earth, in 1969, Mister Alien Doctor?”

“Just the Doctor, thanks, and sure I could, but you could also come with us. We were about to go to Mars for a quick jaunt, want to see it?”

The human space traveler glanced over at Martha and back at the alien in front of him. “I don’t see why not; I came out to explore space and everyone on Earth will have a reason to think I am dead.”

“Well then, Major Tom,” said the Doctor, already a frenzy of switch-flipping, lever-pulling activity, “ _Allons-y!_ ”


End file.
